


Out On the Open Road

by The_Defeaning_Sound_of_Silence



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Bev lives in Portland, But there was no room, Diners, Fear of Abandonment, Fluff and Angst, GUEST APPEARANCES FROM HOPPER AND WILL, I wanted to put a Froggy Fresh referance in, JOPPER IS CANON IN THIS UNIVERSE, M/M, Motels, Road Trips, Sharing a Bed, Stan loves his friends but sssshhhh tell nobody, Title from iconic Goofy Movie song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 14:29:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13882824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Defeaning_Sound_of_Silence/pseuds/The_Defeaning_Sound_of_Silence
Summary: Richie Tozier has anxiety about all of his friends leaving him. His solution? Kidnap Eddie Kaspbrak and bring him to Portland on a wacky road trip adventure.





	Out On the Open Road

**Author's Note:**

> Diydosgsofhdibsufn this took 5ever to write and it's some shittttt oops i hope @supernovajazzy on tumblr is okay with this considering she asked me to write it. Enjoy my 10k word pile of garbage. To indirectly quote my idol and husband, Froggy Fresh, "And please don't- please don't say anything about like- "The writing sucked," or anything because I know that I'm not very good at writing if I don't been practicing it, okay? So just enjoy it- and don't make fun of me! Because I keep on- I just- I'm not very good at writing, yeah, okay? But I'm the master of ruining friendships but I'm not very good at writing yet so don't make fun of me. Just say something like, "That could use a little work or something," don't say "Wow you suck at writing." 'Cause that ain't no- that ain't gettin' nobody nowhere."

 As per usual-- though he wished it wasn’t-- Richie Tozier was awake at night, panicking again. It was very easy for him to pin it on anxiety, with maybe just a little bit of deep-seated insecurity, sprinkled with parental indifference and he had one hell of a fear cocktail. And Jesus Christ did he hate drinking.

 He was thinking about a range of fears, from whether he’d be run over by a bus on his way to school to whether a clown was waiting to kill him in his sleep to all of his friends forgetting about him when they left for college.

 Oh yeah, that one. Stan would be the first to go. He’d been accepted to Princeton on a Financial Economics scholarship, he’d have to be brain-dead not to accept. Ben would follow soon after, at the Georgia Institute of Technology studying Architecture. And then Bill, at Columbia University for Creative Writing, where Bev would be following a month later for Business Management. And then… Eddie. Eddie would be attending Saint John’s University in Queens, New York, the city where he was born. His major was something regarding medicine, Richie tried to tune it out every time the subject was brought up. At least Mike would be staying in Derry, Richie didn’t know why he’d  _ want _ to stay in their shit-pit of a town, but he didn’t care. As long as he had  _ somebody _ to fall back on, because in truth, Richie had no idea what he was going to do after high school.

 Hell, he didn’t even know what he was gonna do about his feelings for Eddie. He had nothing sorted out, four different acceptance letters and no real solution. Yeah, he had applied for colleges. But only because he hadn’t wanted to look suspicious in front of Eddie or Stan, even Bev had spent some time mailing out applications with him.

 He turned over in his bed, wrapping his sheets tighter around his body. Oh shit, they were all gonna leave him and they’d say they were gonna call-- of course they would-- but nobody wanted to hear his annoying voice and he knew, he  _ knew,  _ they’d all be done with him and then ‘Richie Tozier,’ would be nothing more than a faded memory. Shit, shit, then Eddie would never know, he’d  _ never  _ know how much Richie cared about him.

 Oh god, what if Richie himself forgot? Forgot all those times he’d dragged his friends along to the arcade, forgot all the sleepovers, forgot all the time spent pining over Eddie.

 Why did anything have to change? Why couldn’t they just be innocent middle schoolers again? Why couldn’t they play truth or dare and why did Eddie have to grow up so  _ damn cute? _

__ He had to tell him. Had to let him know  _ somehow. _ He could take the approach Ben had, and write him a poem.

_  Dear Eds, _

_  I’d like to take you to bed, _

_  Watch you give me head, _

_  Your pretty eyes shine, _

_  And your ass is  _ **_fine_ ** \- NOPE.

 He was a terrible poet. There was absolutely no way Eddie would take that in the right light. Okay, but maybe he was onto something with the letter. He just couldn’t make it as overtly sexual he’d just thought. 

 After a short internal battle and a groan of defeat, he slid over to the desk that was jammed in the cramped corner of his room. Clutter covered the surface, mostly old papers, some birthday cards and one very important note from Stanley Uris, reminding him that he was, in fact, worth everyone’s time. Richie may or may not have cried to the heavens when he’d received it, and he also may or may not keep it seperate from all the other clutter, just in case he needed to find it on a particularly bad day. Even if he lost it, he could basically quote it from memory. It felt better to read it in Stan’s fancy calligraphy, though.

_ Trashmouth. You may be irritating, and shockingly obtuse for an eighteen year old, but don’t think those aren’t tolerable qualities compared to what good you have. For starters, you’re clever as all get out. I know you steal my jokes sometimes but you occasionally ‘get off a good one,’ on your own. That being said, you’ve got a quality to you that makes us all stick around. It’s not your jokes, it’s not your confidence, and it’s certainly not your looks. You’ve got a big heart, even if you sometimes make insensitive comments about my Judaism and Mike’s race, you’ve got a lot of love to give. We all think you’re really swell for showing it pridefully. So yeah, you make mistakes, and you’re not the best, but if asked to trade a best friend, I’d say, “No way in heck.” _

__ Fucking Stanley Uris and his fucking expert calligraphy and writing skills. That letter was probably his most prized possession. He’d most definitely be taking it to college, and he wondered whether Stan would forget about it when he left. Whether Stan would forget about  _ him.  _

 Regardless, Richie managed to find a pen after palming around in the clutter, and flipped to an empty page in his writing notebook. He began writing with his left hand, because he couldn’t be bothered to try it again with his right.

 “Dear Spaghetti, I’m in love with you.” Sure, cut right to the chase. That’s not suspicious at all, “Yeah, it’s probably obvious considering I’m always flirting with you and there was that one time at the Barrens I accidentally got a boner.” He quickly erased that part.

 “And there was that one time at the Barrens I said I’d kiss you if you’d ask, but you were probably just playing along, considering it was all just a game.”  _ Fuck,  _ what if that was it? Everything was just a game, and tomorrow he’d wake up an awkward middle schooler again, being free to smoke as many cigarettes as he wanted. Even if Mike always took them away because he hated having friends who smoked. And Richie didn’t necessarily blame him.

 “Anyways, I dream about you a lot. It’s really easy to get lost in your eyes, and I’ve noticed your hair started curling around your ears. I think that’s cute.” Wait, was that too creepy? What if Eddie thought he was, like…  _ watching  _ him? He erased again.

 “It’s really easy to think about you, you and the way you always ramble about germs and medical things when you’re nervous. If I hadn’t been friends with you, I would never have known that the most often pain is caused by loose cartilage striking a nerve. And I think you’re really cute when you’re flustered, that’s why I always tell those jokes. I’d really like to run away and never have to come back.” And then Richie had an idea.

_ Run away and never come back. _

 He tore out that page in his notebook and threw it away, slipping on jeans and his favorite denim jacket, with patches sewn onto it by Bev. He gathered up what money he had, from doing chores to even stealing a little of his parent’s money.  He grabbed three full bags of chips and a two-liter soda bottle, as well as some other essentials like his Gameboy and his Walkman and a few blankets and pillows, loading them into the back of his van. 

 Yeah, he had a van.

 All of his friends were convinced he’d get a truck, but he declined in favor of getting a white van which he got Bill to spray paint, which stated in Bill’s sad attempt at graffiti-art,  _ The Trash-van.  _ He thought it was clever at the time.

 But he was currently busy coating the floor with comforters and placing soft blankets and pillows all around, even going so far as to push down the front seat so he could cover it with another thick down comforter, as well as hanging thin sheets in the windows to act as blinds. Finishing his creation with a dreamcatcher, two CD’s, and a few more snacks, he’d left his old house.  _ Forever,  _ he thought.  _ So long, fuckers. _

 He knew the way to Eddie’s house by heart, he’s been going there since he was eight years old, and Eddie allowed him in every time. Even when they were mad at each other.

 Instead of throwing stones at the window like he usually would, Richie opted to climb up the tree that was two feet away from his house, and then jump over to his roof and slide in his window.

 However, that really didn’t go as planned, as his legs were too long and he miscalculated the jump, falling into the grassy area below, hard. He groaned, as suddenly his body ached and the neighbor’s dog had began to bark.

 “Ow…” He groaned, annoyed, but quickly pushed himself back up and clambered up the tree again. That time, he had steady footing and was able to crawl, somewhat spider-like, up Eddie’s roof. His window was unlocked-- no surprise-- so Richie slid in, legs flailing as he tried not to knock over Eddie’s standing lamp.

 “Eds,” Richie whispered, to be replied with a sweet hum. Richie damn near melted at that, he’d somehow managed to forget just how sweet he could be when he was tired and touch-starved. The brunette boy yawned quietly, blinking his sleepy eyes in the direction of his best friend, and reaching out in a ‘grabby-hands,’ motion.

 “Chee? What’re you doing here? Bad night?”  _ Fuck.  _ He absolutely loved Eddie Kaspbrak, and had to refrain himself from wrapping his lanky arms around his middle and burying his face in Eddie’s sweet-smelling hair.

 “Actually Kaspbrak, I’m here for you. How would you feel about leaving forever and never coming back, huh? No pills, no expectations,” He paused, “No overbearing  _ mommy _ ?”

 Eddie slowly came to his senses, frowning curiously. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and stared at Richie in bewilderment.

 “What are you talking about? Leave? Where would we go?” Eddie inquired, a very logical and valid question which Richie had,-- unsurprisingly-- not thought through. He answered with a shrug and a smirk.

 “Who knows? Who cares? Don’t you wanna leave Shit City? Never look back?” Eddie groaned in response and Richie almost began to rethink his decision. Almost.

 “What about the other Losers? What about our friends and parents? Your sister?” Richie scoffed. Of course Eddie would try to bring common sense into his-- admittedly crazy-- idea. He swallowed thickly and shook his head.

 “My sister will be absolutely  _ fine _ . My dad actually likes her, and Stan and the Uris’ will be here to take care of her, regardless. If the other Losers had any sense, they’d follow us. Come on, don’t tell me you don’t wanna see the world. Just to see what it’s like?” Richie pleaded, hoping that maybe through sheer valiant determination, his best friend would agree. Eddie heaved a sigh.

 “You know your dad loves you, Chee.” Richie chose to ignore that, as Edde slowly rose from his bed. “What do I get if I do decide to come with you?”

 “A hug and a kiss.” Richie’s tone suggested he was joking, but his heart said otherwise, his lips curling into a Cheshire Cat grin. His heart sank a little when Eddie laughed, but rose again at the sound.

 “Huh, thought there’d be more on the line.” Eddie jabbed his finger in the direction of the window. He was clearly joking back, which is what he wanted, or so he thought. 

 “What, my lips aren’t enough for you, Eddie-bear?” Richie teasingly made kissy noises, only to have Eddie shove his shoulder lightly. Teasingly.

 “When’s the last time you brushed your teeth?” The smaller of the two quipped back, running a hand through his hair.

 “Hm… 1976 I think.” At that point, he and Eddie were both chuckling softly, hyper-aware of waking up his mom. A run-in with Sonia Kaspbrak was exactly what they didn’t need in the moment. As much as Richie’s trashmouth side ran with jokes about her, she was actually very abusive and controlling. Their plans would undoubtedly be ruined should she discover, “that Tozier boy,” was stealing her son away for a road trip.

 “You’re disgusting,” Eddie rolled his eyes, and swung his legs off the side of the bed, “But someone’s gotta keep you from killing yourself.”

 “What are you talking about? I have an  _ amazing  _ self-preservation instinct.” Richie argued, placing his hand on his heart for dramatic effect.

 “Richie, in fifth grade you found a BB gun and tried to play Russian Roulette with yourself.  _ Twice.” _

 “But my Mafia Boss impression was on point, don’t even try to deny it.” Eddie sighed.

 “Are we gonna get going or just talk here forever? Pack my stuff, will you?” Richie nodded as Eddie wandered out into the hallway to gather what little money he himself had. He obediently uncovered a black duffle bag from his closet and began busying himself.

 When he was picking out Eddie’s clothes for him, he chose only his absolute favorites. His red shorts with a little rainbow flag embroidered into them, his pink overalls and fluffiest wool sweater, as well as one of Richie’s hoodies he pretended not to notice he stole.

 Eddie returned with some actually healthy snacks, like a can of reheatable chicken soup and a bag of baby carrots. They climbed out his window, Eddie still in pastel blue sweatpants and a pastel yellow t-shirt-- his pajamas-- and helped fix his stuff up in Richie’s warm car. Almost minutes after Richie had began to drive, Eddie had himself situated so that he was laying over the passenger's seat, which Richie had pushed down. He had his pillow against the headboard and he could see his face every time he looked down.

 “So what’s this all about, huh? You must have a reason?” Eddie spoke, his tone fairly quiet. He kept his eyes closed and his hands locked around his stomach, breathing gently through his nose. Richie shrugged, his eyes keen on the road ahead.

 “Dunno, bored I guess.” He was lying straight through his teeth, but Eddie would tease him and ask questions if he told the truth. So instead, he tried to come up with a believable excuse as he ventured past the only boundary he’d ever known.

 An old wooden sign held limply up by metal stakes advertized the words, “You’re leaving Derry!” in chipping blue paint, as though he didn’t already know. As though it wasn’t one of the biggest decisions of his life. He heard a little scoff at his words.

 “You plan to leave your  _ entire  _ livelihood in the past because ‘you’re bored,’? We both know that’s not true, don’t bullshit me, Rich.” Eddie deadpanned, briefly opening his eyes to study Richie’s face. After a bout of silence and a heavy sigh, he relaxed slightly.

 “Okay, so you don’t wanna tell me why… do you at least have some place set? Somewhere to fall back on?” Damn Eddie and his logic and reasoning. He hadn’t thought of any of that, completely focused on just… having Eddie there,  _ someone _ to remember him, to ease his worries and fears.

 “I was thinking… L.A.? Or Vegas? Hell if I know,” Richie responded, squeezing his hands even tighter around the wheel. For what seemed like the millionth time that night, Eddie heaved a light sigh.

 “Alright. As long as you have some bearing of a destination, some sort of goal,” Eddie whispered, clearly falling asleep quickly. Richie nodded, as if to confirm that, yes, he did in fact have a goal.

 About two hours later, Richie pulled into an empty parking lot and slid over to the passenger’s side, retrieving another blanket and curling around Eddie in a way just short of spooning.  He brushed some of Eddie’s curls away from his eyes and whispered a quiet, “‘Night Eds.”

 When they woke up, it was to Eddie’s alarm-watch. He jumped, blinking some sleep from his eyes. Richie thankfully remembered his heat of the moment decision, and he also remembered that they were in _Portland,_ _Maine._ None other than the city where Beverly Marsh resided. He hoped Eddie wouldn’t remember, or if he did, ask to see her.

 It wasn’t that Richie didn’t  _ want _ to see Bev, but he knew that she could sniff out fears and insecurities like a Bloodhound, and she might notice his fear of losing Eddie specifically. And that could lead to an uncomfortable confrontation about feelings and sexuality, all things that Richie wasn’t ready for. Eddie woke up soon after him, and turned off his watch.

 “We should look for a breakfast joint,” Eddie murmured sleepily, “These snacks won’t get us very far.”

 Richie chuckled. Even when on the run, even when away from Derry and his mother by extension, Eddie was still conscious.  _ Conscious. _ Was that even the right word? It seemed more like something Stan would be described as, more than Eddie at least. An angry Eddie was  _ especially _ not a conscious one.

 Wait. Oh shit. The letter, Stan’s letter. Richie had left it at his house, he’d left it behind with his family. Oh god, what if someone found that letter in his room and threw it away? Shit, shit, no. What if Stan thought it didn’t mean anything to him? That they weren’t best friends? Well, reality had started to set in.

 They had really left it  _ all _ behind. Every memory made with the Losers, every second spent at the Barrens or the Quarry… it was starting to get to Richie. And they’d barely been away for six hours. And Eddie was with him.Oh yeah, he was gonna  _ die _ in college.

 “Chee?” Eddie unknowingly stopped his panic attack before it could go any farther Just another thing he was gonna miss when he… no, it was better not to think of that.

 “Right, yeah. A breakfast joint, yeah. Um, we should probably walk. So we don’t- uh… waste gas or anything,” Richie reasoned, and Eddie agreed with a nod, stretching in the thinly-veiled light of the van windows. Richie studied him silently, and he’d be lying if he said the thought of lurching forward and connecting their lips didn’t cross his mind. Because it did. And in that moment, it was one of his most prevalent thoughts. 

 At first he was convinced it had to be  the lighting, but internally he knew it wasn’t. He had feelings for Eddie and if they didn’t talk them out before college, they probably never would. And Richie wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

 “Yeah, gimme a minute to get changed,” Eddie replied, and almost immediately after began pulling his shirt off as Richie looked away, blushing redder than Mike’s  _ Nissan. _

 “Jesus, Eds! Warn a guy?” Richie almost choked as he heard more shuffling behind him. He could practically hear the eyeroll in Eddie’s tone.

 “Yeah okay, asshole. You’re the one who initiated this crazy plan, don’t blame me for the repercussions. You should get changed too. Bev’s not gonna wanna see your crusty ass t-shirt and sweats, you know she’s gonna tool on you majorly,” He rambled absently, and Richie used almost all of his willpower not to check the rearview. He gave a half-assed chortle and tried to be as casual as possible. He’d been trying to skillfully avoid the topic of Beverly, but it seemed as though Eddie had his mind made up.

 “Well gee, Eddie Spaghetti, if I’d known you were so eager to get me naked, maybe I would’ve just stayed at home.” Eddie reached over and smacked him upside the head.

 “You know what I meant.”

 “Yeah, but it’s funner to twist your words.”  _ More fun,  _ he could hear echoing in his head, like a distant memory. He felt a pang of remorse in his heart again, leaving his friends and family behind. However, it was soon replaced by the familiar, “Beep beep Richie.” That so effortlessly slipped from Eddie’s tongue. Richie grinned.

 “Guess you’re right, wouldn’t want to disappoint the people,” He laughed, fishing for a clean t-shirt, Hawaiian shirt, and jeans to throw on. That time it was Eddie’s turn to look away, and he seemed to be glancing out the front windows curiously, as though looking for something. Richie noted that Eddie was indeed wearing the pink overalls with a white long-sleeved shirt underneath it. He resisted the urge to make a comment, sliding into his jeans as his best friend laughed at his vocalized struggles.

 When he’d finally managed to finish putting his clothes on he heard a small groan of dissatisfaction from Eddie. And Richie, being Richie, was automatically curious. Eddie was awkwardly fidgeting, turned away from him and busy with something that Richie couldn’t see. The confined space was obviously getting to him as he continued to fidget and occasionally let out displeased groans much like the first he’d heard. So Richie did the first thing that came to mind-- a Voice.

 “Whatchu doin’, Spaghetti Man? Mah love havin’ prahblems? Ya know ahm always heah tah listen. Spill it out, sugah.” He poorly imitated some sort of mix between a Southern Belle, a mafia boss, and a stereotypical New Yorker, causing Eddie to sigh audibly. No matter which voice he adopted, he was always Richie.

 “I don’t suppose you brought a hair brush? Because my hair is a mess… dammit, nevermind. I’ll ask Beverly when we meet up with her later today,” Eddie moaned, irritated. He was toying with his hair, flipping strands around to different sides of his part and fidgeting with it like an antsy supermodel. Richie thought it looked fine, but he supposed it wasn’t unlike Eddie to fuss over his appearance.

 “Aw, Eds! I think it looks cute, just like you!” Richie gushed, bopping his finger against Eddie’s nose and using his other hand to pinch his cheeks. “Cute, cute,  _ cute!”  _

 Eddie slapped his hand away, his expression one that could only be described as ‘flat.’ Richie refused to let that discourage him, continuing his long slew of words including, “Teeny-weeny,” “Cute lil’ Spaghetti-head,” and most importantly, “My love.” He loved to go on tirades about how small and adorable Eddie was, mostly because it made him flustered and annoyed, and pouting Eddie was one of the best Eddies.

 “Will you just  _ help me _ fix my hair?” Eddie huffed finally, seeming completely done with Richie’s antics. Richie nodded slowly, the request coming as a bit of a surprise.

 He wordlessly reached forward, leaning over Eddie’s crossed knees as he ducked his head for Richie to comb through his hair. Before fixing it, Richie gently card his fingers through Eddie’s hair. It was an oddly intimate gesture, especially in the quietness of Richie’s van and the early morning heat.

 He slowly shifted little locks of Eddie’s hair in places that they seemed like they belonged, concentrated. His brows were knit together as he focused, and out of the corner of his eyes he could see Eddie’s big brown eyes looking back at him. He slowly backed away, admiring his work.

 “There,” He breathed, a crooked smirk finding its way onto his face. “Done.”

 Eddie didn’t respond for a solid few moments, looking almost hypnotized. Soon after, though, he snapped out of his mesmerized daze and coughed awkwardly.

 “Um, I- thanks.” His face was red and he seemed to be radiating reciprocated feelings. But that was probably Richie imagining things again. Damn his overactive imagination. It was just that… sometimes he felt that Eddie felt the same way about him. It was like he was trying to tell him that he felt the same way, but he didn’t want to say it outright. But it was all in Richie’s head, he promised himself. There was no way Eddie actually  _ liked _ him, let alone  _ loved _ him.

 “Yeah, n- no problem. So how about breakfast?” Richie was desperately trying to play it cool, though he was sure his heart was beating a million beats a minute. He cast his gaze towards the door, debating reaching past Eddie to open it.

 “Right, um… we should find someone to ask,” Eddie agreed. He thankfully turned around by himself and opened the door out into the overcast day, the air chilly and the sky painted with multiple shades of gray. The sun wasn’t even visible through the thick layer of clouds, and Eddie shivered as he exited. When Richie followed, he quickly slung an arm around Eddie’s shoulders, allowing him the chance to curl into his side as they walked, which he did.

 They walked for several minutes, definitely closer to each other than they needed to be. They noted several people on their way down the road, an old homeless man, a woman walking her dog to the park-- presumably-- when finally they came across a older man and a kid about their age. A father and son, from the way they interacted. 

 Eddie stopped, causing Richie to stop as well. He unhooked Richie’s arm from around his shoulders and went trotted up to the two boys a few feet ahead of them.

 “Hey!” He waved-- somewhat upbeat-- in their direction. Richie tried futilely to keep up with him, but he ultimately fell behind anyways. He couldn’t deny that Eddie was fast-- he ran cross-country track for the school, and he wasn’t the most agile runner, but damn if he wasn’t fast.

 “Eddie, wait-” He paused, as Eddie had already struck up a conversation between himself and the other two. He ran to catch up to where they’d stopped.

 “Oh, this is Richie. He’s my best friend.” Eddie motioned vaguely in his direction, a sociable smile expressed on his face. Richie gave a tired smile from running so fast, even though it was really only ten or so feet. The boy smiled.

“Oh, well… Eddie?” He paused, looking to Eddie for confirmation that it was in fact his name, continuing only when Eddie nodded, “-was just asking about a good breakfast places around here. We were telling him that we’re actually just visiting too.”

 “Oh yeah?”

 “Yeah, we’re from Indiana. My brother goes to college here, and my sister couldn’t wait to visit him. But he’s the chief of police, so we had to wait a few weeks and now here we are.” The boy laughed awkwardly looking up at his father. Richie paused.

 “Indiana? That’s a long drive. What city?” The man shrugged and spoke for the first time in a raspy voice.

 “Oh, you’ve probably never heard of it. We’re pretty obscure up in Hawkins.” Richie shrugged in response, and responded with, “Can’t be as obscure as Derry, nobody ever visits our town. That’s why we- I… wanted to leave.”

 At that, the kid cast a glance to Eddie.

“You didn’t want to leave?”

 “He dragged me out of bed at three in the morning and bribed me into his van. Lord knows someone has to keep him out of trouble,” Eddie groaned playfully, shoving Richie’s shoulder.

 “Very true, however we did see a place a little bit down the road, you could always look there.” The man jabbed his thumb behind him, “Marcy’s Diner.”

 “Right, thanks! Hope you get to see your brother.” Eddie waved as he pulled Richie along, until they were standing in front of a small and quaint-looking diner.

 When they walked inside, a bell of the top of the door announced it for them. Smooth jazz played faintly over the speakers and the whole place smelled of bacon and pancakes. It presented as a fifties-style diner, but it was quiet and had an almost homey feel to it.

They found an empty booth and slid into it, each picking up menus and discussing their order amongst themselves. There was only about ten dollars to spend on breakfast, as a consequence of leaving so abruptly, but luckily the food was cheap.

 Richie ordered a burger and fries to split with Eddie, as well as a vanilla milkshake to split with Eddie, and Eddie ordered an bacon omelette. They had about two dollars to spare, which was enough for them to get a keepsake from Portland, which Richie was set on doing, though he purposefully kept that from Eddie.

 He wanted to chronicle their journeys through the states, everything from the restaurants they ate at to the people they met. Over breakfast, it appeared that Eddie wanted to strike up conversation.

 “So… does Bev know we’re going to see her?” Richie nearly choked as Eddie sipped their milkshake innocently. He sighed with a sad smile.

 “I wasn’t sure if… I mean, do we really need to see Beverly?” Eddie furrowed his brows at that, nodding his head decisively.

 “Of course we do, we haven’t seen her in, what, four years now? Maybe five. Point is, I want to see how she’s doing now that her dad… now that she lives here.” Eddie closed his eyes for a moment, opening them quickly and taking another bite of his omelette. The sun was rising gradually, casting a golden glow through the large window of the diner.

 When he looked back at Eddie, half of his face was bathed in the orange light, and Richie had the sudden urge to reach across the table and kiss him. Fiddling with holes in his clothing, he repressed the urge, opting to just stare at him.

 He always knew Eddie was cute-- fuck, everyone knew Eddie was cute. It wasn’t some big secret. His brown eyes sparkled, a color that matched with tree bark in the early morning sun, that stood out against his surroundings like a pine cone in winter. His skin, a caramel brown color which pulled into dimples when he smiled, with freckles dusting across his cheeks and faint laugh lines around his mouth. His hair was mussed from the morning’s previous dilemma, but Richie wished it were from something else. The clothes he wore were kept clean and pretty-- much like the boy himself--and looked good seemingly without trying. He was a little chubby, but in a way that it only added to how cute he looked. In that light, though, he looked more than cute and pretty. He looked like the only sight Richie would ever want to see until the day he died. And he was determined to get that, come hell or high water.

 He cleared his throat quickly and turned his head down to his plate to make sure Eddie didn’t know that he was staring. His glasses almost slid off onto the plate below him, and he fumbled awkwardly trying to keep them on and look anywhere but Eddie, lest he accidentally pop a boner and make things a whole lot more awkward.

 “A- are you okay?” Eddie frowned, looking him over warily. Richie straightened and gave a salute and crooked smile.

 “Hm? Oh, nevah bettah, gov’na!” Oh god, he was doing one of his stupid voices again. How did he ever plan to win Eddie over when all he could think to do was poorly imitate an Australian? Maybe talking to Beverly  _ would _ be the better course of action.

 “Right… so are we gonna go see Bev? I can call her if we find a payphone.” Richie was nodding enthusiastically, his previous notions about seeing their old red-haired friend completely forgotten. Bev was good with romance, she had to be! She could help him win over Eddie, and be subtle about it as well. Subtlety wasn’t exactly his strong suit.

 When they’d finished and paid-- and Richie had bought a small keychain from the display they had at the counter-- they began their walk back to the Trash-van, looking for a payphone on the way. Eddie was sure he remembered Bev’s number from all the times he’d called her back in Derry. As long as there was some way to get to her, Richie was good to trust his judgement.

 After walking for about one block, they’d finally found an old metal stand on the side of the road. It was old, and it looked like it would fall over at any minute, but Richie fed it quarters until Eddie was able to punch in her number. It rang and rang for several minutes, until a voice must’ve picked up. It was difficult to decipher a one-sided conversation, but Richie did his best.

 “Hello, is this the Marsh residence?”

 “Yes hi, my name is Eddie Kaspbrak. Do you know if Beverly still resides there?”

 “We used to be friends, and we were hoping to come visit. By ‘we,’ I mean Richie Tozier and I. Make sure you tell her that.”

 “Uh-huh, I figured. Tell her we, uh, left Derry… on a road trip.” There was a long pause, and Richie wondered if he’d been hung up on.

 “Beverly?” He almost startled, as he hadn’t been expecting Eddie to speak, especially not with such an awestruck tone, “I- it’s so good to hear your voice. Yeah, Chee and I ran away. I mean, I’d love to meet up with you, can you give us your address?”

 “Okay, 1718 Taft Avenue. Got it, thanks so much. I know, it’ll be great to see you too. Okay, bye now.” Eddie hung up the phone with the only sound being that of the click of plastic against metal. He was muttering the address under his breath, and he started towards the place where they left Richie’s van.

 Eddie walked with newfound purpose, head held high and strides large. Richie smiled, because seeing Eddie acting as confident as he was in that moment was such a rare sight, he wanted it to burn into his brain. It was definitely a plus, bringing Eddie along with him. Richie felt blessed, by whatever being controlled the universe. How could he not have been with Eddie Kaspbrak around?

 They collectively decided not to drive the short distance and waste gas, opting instead to retrieve the old map from Richie’s glove compartment and study it together. Eddie sat in the passenger’s seat of the Trash-van and Richie seated behind him, squinting at the marked locations and text. He pointed a long, thin finger at a street not far from them.

 “That’s Taft Avenue,” He observed, as though Eddie couldn’t see it. 

 “That’s where Beverly is,” Eddie confirmed with furrowed eyebrows, trying to work out a way to get there without getting lost or turned around.

 “You know, I almost forgot her name. Beverly, Beverly, Beverly. One time when I called I addressed her as ‘Barbara,’ and she called me ‘Ronnie,’ in return. I think… I think that was the last time we spoke,” Richie rambled on and on, memories of a red-haired girl just a touch taller than him passing through his mind like shards of broken glass in a car crash.

 The smaller boy nodded without a word, folding up the map and locking the van as he stepped back into the chilly morning air.

 They walked for a solid five minutes, Richie listening to Eddie ramble about seeing their childhood friend again, whether she’d changed a lot or any at all. And Richie was excited to find out too, because he missed her spitfire personality and nicotine-ridden breath. To hear her warm voice again would be like hearing an old song, one sadly long since forgotten.

 They finally rounded a street corner and came upon a rather run-down looking house. One story tall, made of cracked red brick and dusty glass windows, an Oldsmobile parked in the driveway. The landscaping was untrimmed, tall grass snaking up the side of the house and spilling over onto the concrete in the driveway. There were flowers planted in a row along the pavement, sunflowers and orchids and roses alike, clashing together in an unorganized and yet very Beverly way.

 He and Eddie walked up to the front door and he quickly rapped his fist against it three consecutive times, eagerly awaiting a response. To his surprise, a woman who looked to be in her mid-forties answered the door. Her appearance was unkempt and almost lazy, golden-brown hair thrown lazily up into a ponytail, a pink cami and fluffy pajama shorts slightly askew on her body. She had rose-gold glasses on, a beaded wire threaded behind her neck like a necklace.

 “Oh.” She gave a blank expression, studying both of them. From the map grasped between Eddie’s fingers to Richie’s glasses perched on his nose. “I didn’t expect you boys so soon.”

 “Sorry. We did walk pretty fast,” Richie chuckled dryly, no humor in his feeble attempt at a joke. His heart was pounding in his chest, butterflies erupting in his stomach.

 “Yeah, no, you’re good. Can I get you something to eat?” She asked, stepping back just enough to allow them through the front door. He took a step in before Eddie.

 “We actually just ate, but thanks anyway.” He heard Eddie politely decline, his eyes focused on the surroundings. The inside was a lot like the outside, but somehow quainter. There were framed photographs lining the walls, natural light pouring into the windows, which had plants resting on their sills. A twenty-two inch TV sat in the living room, playing the morning news on mute. The furniture clashed awfully, mostly floral patterns with a hint of stripes and a white wooden rocking chair in the corner. It was all open-concept, the kitchen sink piled high with green plates and glass cups, refrigerator decorated with more pictures and papers. The trashcan was overflowing and Richie noted a Calico cat curled up on one of the granite countertops.

 “Bevvie went back to sleep after talking to you, but I’ll see what I can do to get her up. She gets a little cranky in the mornings.” Richie nodded understandingly with a chuckle.

 “Tell her Trashmouth and Wheezie are here to save the day. She’ll know what that means,” Richie attempted another joke, more and more anxiety pooling in his stomach as he realized Beverly was the key to getting his feelings out to Eddie before they both left. The woman rolled her eyes good-heartedly, disappearing into a room at the end of a thin hallway.

 He was left rocking on his heels in the hallway in front of Eddie, tired and overflowing with the need to release his feelings. He’d thought many times about telling one of his other friends, but each time he got scared and chickened out. It would only cause more trouble than it’s worth. No way would he be open to telling the boy himself without assistance from someone he trusted. And who better than the girl he used to smoke a pack a day with back in middle school? At the very least she couldn’t tell any of the other boys, considering they lived so far apart.

 Beverly finally popped her head out of the room, clad in slippers and a striped blue and white nightgown that reached her knees. The first thing he noticed was that her hair had gotten longer. Longer than his own, but curlier yet. Her ginger locks reached her shoulders, hair looking much more taken care of than it had at the time when she left them originally.

 “Oh my god,” Beverly gasped, obviously just as taken aback as they were. Richie had grown almost a foot and a half, and Eddie had lost almost all of his puppy fat and his skin was far more tanned.

 “Beverly?” He saw Eddie slowly walking towards her from his place frozen in front of the TV. His brain was screaming at him to go hug her or talk or do  _ something _ other than just stand there like a gaping idiot.

 But he kept his feet planted as he watched Eddie and Bev embrace, a sight he never thought he’d be so relieved to see. She wanted to see them too, and if her silent tears weren’t proof enough, she was gripping Eddie’s shoulders like a vice. It was as though she thought that if she let go, so to it would Richie and Eddie drop from her life.

 Soon enough, she did let go. And then she was running towards Richie, and he was picking her up and spinning her around happily, crying hot tears down his cheeks.

 “I missed you so much, you dweeb! Where have you been?” She inquired through tears of her own. Richie could only hold her head in his hands and study her face, the face he’d long forgotten, dotted with freckles and chapped lips. He eventually settled for pulling her into his chest and burying his nose in her hair. It smelled like apple shampoo and everything else good in the world.

 “It’s been too long, Bevvie,” He said, his voice barely above a whisper. She nodded against him, and he kept her close to him for another few minutes. It felt as though they were gone too quickly when she pulled away with a breathless laugh and pat his chest contentedly.

 “So- so what are you guys doing out here? My aunt said something about a road trip? Did you bring Ben, Bill? What about Mike and Stan? Are they here too?” Richie shook his head a little sadly.

 “Nope, just me and Eds against the world.”  _ It’s Eds and I, dipshit.  _ That ever so Stan-like voice in the very back of his thoughts reminded him. He shook his head a little to clear it.

 “Oh, is there a reason or…?” She trailed off expectantly, and Eddie spoke up quickly. A little too quickly.

 “Nope, just wanted to get away. We thought we’d visit you. Uh, you know. To catch up,” He hastily explained, so rushed and forced it almost sounded like a lie. But it wasn’t, it was the truth. And so Richie nodded along with it.

 “... Right.” Bev raised a skeptical eyebrow, when they were broken from their conversation by a noise akin to something hitting the floor, and then the cat from earlier was circling Bev’s legs and purring as she pet behind its ears.

 “This is Francis, she’s a total sweetie. You can pet her if you want.” But Richie shook his head, unconcerned with the cat and rather eager to get Bev alone and tell her about his feelings. As difficult as that might have been for him to admit.

 “Um, no thanks. I actually wanted to talk to you about, my um… my new van! Yeah, Bill painted it and you haven’t- you haven’t seen it yet. I’d love to tell you about it. The van, I mean.” Bev’s eyes flicked questioningly between the two of them. From Richie to Eddie to Richie to Eddie.

 “O… kay. Let’s talk in my room. Eddie, why don’t you stay with Francis and pet her. I promise you’ll love her.” Richie thanked God he had a friend who could read between the lines. Then it was Eddie’s turn to look skeptical, but with both Bev and Richie staring him down, he caved and sat on the nearby rocking chair, patting his lap so that the cat would jump up onto him.

  Bev then pulled Richie back to her quaint room, full of polaroids and fairy tale books that she seemed to have never outgrown. He sat on her quilted bed as she shut her door behind them.

 “What’s the deal then, Tozier? Because I’m pretty sure even blind people can see the tension between you and Eddie.” Richie heaved a heavy sigh, but nodded all the same.

 “To be honest, I have no idea. I mean, sometimes I feel like he likes me, but then… fuck, I dunno. Maybe he doesn’t?” He flopped down and pushed his glasses all the way up his face, rubbing his eyelids.

 “What about you? Do you like him?” The answer to that was obvious. He’d known since he was probably twelve years old, maybe even younger. He knew how much he wanted to be with his best friend Eddie.

 “Yeah, a lot. I can’t stop thinking about it, actually. It’s part of the reason why I wanted to leave. Because I knew we’d be parting ways soon and I needed to steal him away and keep him so that he never leaves me and forgets about me. Everytime I look at him I want to kiss him. I tried to push this away, I thought it was just some sort of phase, but… but he’s- he’s my best friend, my partner in crime. I think about kissing him nearly every time I see him. I think about how much I want to wake up to that smile every single morning. I think about his laugh and his voice and his clothes, his hair, his lips. I think… I think I’m in love with him, Bev. Fuck, I  _ am _ in love with him.” It felt good to finally say it. Freeing, in a way. But it was also like tying shackles around his wrists, because now his friend who he hasn’t seen in years knew his biggest secret.

 “Then tell him.” 

 And that was exactly what Richie planned to do. He and Bev worked quickly to figure out a plan, and then it was Richie’s job to put it in motion. When they left around five in the afternoon, Bev winked at him subtly and whispered a quiet encouragement.

 The first part was easy. Getting them into a motel. Eddie already hated the van and would do anything for a bed that night, and so Richie found one near the edge of town and rented the cheapest room they had. It wasn’t his fault that they didn’t have a lot of money, but a part of him was glad the room contained only one bed.

 It took them less than ten minutes to get there and check into room seven, a dilapidated and small, yet cozy place. The striped wallpaper was peeling, brown carpet covered in questionable stains. There was one bed and a TV, a small bathroom to the left and a closet for the minimal amount of clothing they’d packed.

 Eddie had complained about the amount of germs and how little they probably cleaned the place, and Richie never shushed him because he found it to be the cutest thing ever. Just as the sun was dipping into the horizon did he decide to take his opportunity.

 “Hey Eds?” He started, trying to keep his voice level while fidgeting for a Marlboro in his pocket. Eddie raised both of his eyebrows, signaling that Richie got his attention.

 “Wanna come watch the sunset with me?” He asked, a little hesitant, as though waiting for rejection. Eddie rolled his eyes.

 “Not if you’re gonna smoke.” Richie had never shoved a cigarette in his pocket faster. He shook his head nearly so hard his glasses flew off, his cheeks reluctantly reddening.

 “Nah, no. Naht me, mistah. Naht today, ah say.” He threw his head towards the door, a question unspoken between them. Eddie nodded slowly, almost as though he knew what would happen if he followed Richie out onto that deck. Both were so nervous they thought nothing of the Voice, something of a repeated and familiar script.

 He held the door to the deck open for Eddie himself, citing “ladies first,” and promptly getting smacked for such an imprudent comment. And then they stood out in the biting cold, Richie’s glasses fogging up, Eddie shivering.

 Richie’s fingers itched for something to do, and he realized how beneficial having a smoke would be, but he also realized doing that could potentially scare Eddie away. He didn’t want to do or say  _ anything  _ to scare his best friend away. And he began to rethink his decision to say anything at all. Luckily, he didn’t have to, because Eddie spoke up first.

 “You know…” He sighed deeply, “You know we can’t stay here forever. We can’t keep going, not here, not to Vegas, or L.A., or wherever the hell you were thinking of going. We have family and friends back home. It was fun for a day but… you know we have to go back, don’t you?"

 And Richie froze. Because he did know. He knew he couldn’t keep his Eddie Spaghetti all to himself for the rest of time. He knew there was no way they could just… start over, somewhere far away. They had a life back there, and it really wasn’t a bad one. There were ups and downs, but the same could be said for any other life.

 “Yeah,” Richie breathed, running a hand over his face, “I know.”

 It was as though saying it out loud gave him a burst of unexplainable courage. Courage which he fully intended to use to get his feelings and words out before adulthood and responsibilities took Eddie away. College was so close anyways, Richie thought that even if Eddie did reject him, well… at least he wouldn’t have to see his face ever again.

 “Look, I… I gotta say something. Gotta get this out before it swallows me whole.” Eddie nodded, encouraging him silently. He even went so far as to place a hand on his back. He knew, he had to know.

 “I lied… about- about the reason we’re here. The reason I took you here. I didn’t- I thought that maybe if I took you away first, the world couldn’t do it for me. It was all about you, that’s why- that’s why I didn't bring anyone else. It was all for you, Eds.” And it was true. But it was hard to say, and he felt his throat closing up while the words got caught in his throat.

 “I get it, Richie. We’re gonna be going off to college soon and-”

 “No, Eddie. I did it because I love you. I’m  _ in love _ with you,” He sniffled, his voice breaking. It hurt to say, but at the same time, it made him feel free. So, so free. It was like he’d finally released the heavy weight pressing down on his mind for the past ten years, give or take. “I thought coming out here would make it hurt less. But it didn’t because I’m so head-over-heels for you, every single time I saw you smile all I could think about was having to leave you behind when… when you left for fucking Queens. When you left  _ me. _ And I- I- I can’t deal with that. I can’t let you forget about me. This way… this way you’ll remember me, either as the freak who tried to start something or as the boyfriend you used to have. So that’s… that’s all I have, I’m gonna stop talking now. I- sorry.”

 With that, Richie was quiet for once in his life. There was no joke to be told, no Voice to be heard. It was almost peaceful, in a way. Or it would be, if he hadn’t just told Eddie what was probably most earth-shattering news he had ever told anyone. He found it rather difficult to even admit it to himself. When Eddie breathed in to speak, Richie felt his heart skip a beat.

 “Um, that’s- that’s really something, I guess. But you shouldn’t be sorry. Look, I’m not gonna sugarcoat it. I’ve never been more excited for what the future holds when I got accepted into Saint John’s. I don’t think I can just let that go, y’know? But you… shit, I can’t lie. You make me happy, in a way that I never thought I could be with someone. And maybe it was just my mother talking, or maybe a part of myself, but I never wanted to believe it was love. But now… now I know. I just… I don’t want to start something and then have to let it go so soon.” He kept his eyes trained on his shoes, white and pristine, with very few dirt stains on them. It was almost as though the words hurt to say as much as they hurt to hear. But Richie was desperate, and desperation could drive someone to do just about anything.

 He turned Eddie’s head to face his, cupping his left cheek with one hand, using the other to lift his chin a bit, just before he leaned down and turned his head, slowly bringing his lips down towards Eddie’s. He was really trying to give the brunette boy a chance to pull away, but he was also very focused on pressing their lips together. When he was finally sure Eddie wouldn’t pull away, he finally closed the space completely.

 The kiss was soft, barely meeting each other’s lips, Richie’s chapped and broken ones merely ghosting over Eddie’s, which Richie had almost immediately realized tasted like strawberries. He wondered briefly if it was chapstick or just  _ Eddie _ . Either way, Richie knew he wanted to have it forever. Seeing as neither of them had ever had a  _ real _ kiss before, it was fairly awkward. Richie’s glasses pressed into Eddie’s face and their noses bumped more than once, but overall it was fairly enjoyable. From Richie’s perspective, at least. He suspected Eddie felt the same, judging by the blush covering his cheeks and forehead, and the dreamy smile he was wearing as Richie pulled away.

 “I applied to Saint John’s last week,” Richie whispered, as though if he raised his voice the precious moment would break. Eddie nodded along carefully.

 “I really hope you get in.” And he leaned up for another kiss, a little bit rougher but not as slow; it felt as though it only lasted for a second. Richie was both satisfied and dissatisfied at the same time. He wished that he could just kiss Eddie Kaspbrak for the rest of his life, and never have to come up to breathe.

 Later that night, they were both curled up on the single bed in the room, silvery shadows reflecting off the painted walls. It was pretty, Richie thought, like a painting in a museum, the way the trees were bent into thin silhouettes. But his Eddie-- who he had wrapped in a tight grip beside him-- was prettier. It occurred to him that had he not broken into the Kaspbrak household around that time two nights ago, he wouldn’t even be in that position. If it hadn't been for anxiety, he would have never learned how Eddie’s lips felt, or tasted.

 He wished a little selfishly that Eddie could be his forever, that he’d never have to let his Eddie go. But at the same time, if he was holding Eddie back from happiness, he couldn’t let him stay behind and give everything up.

 Just a few days ago, college had never seemed so close. But with Eddie in his arms, it had never seemed so far. It was like a prospect at that point. If he didn’t get into Saint John’s, he wouldn’t get to be with Eddie. But he would, there was something in the universe that told him he would.

 The clock beside him on the bedside table advertised 3:43 AM in bold red letters. Richie groaned softly, reluctantly pulling away from Eddie and the comfort and warmth he provided.

 After shoving his glasses on his face-- vision becoming immediately sharper-- he felt around to steady himself on the wall as he stood up. He immediately missed having his arms around Eddie’s body, padding over to the bathroom, which had no right to be as cold as it was.

 When he finished and went to go back to bed, he saw how Eddie had been sleeping. Face smushed almost comically into his pillow, eyes closed lightly as he breathed out little contented-seeming snores. He looked so  _ peaceful.  _ It was like the spitfire boy Richie knew and loved was reliving his fondest memories.

 In that moment, Richie realized something. He didn’t need an extravagant road trip, or a motel to sleep in, or even an acceptance letter to Saint John’s. He had a future  _ and  _ a past with Eddie. No matter what happened-- whether they got to attend the same college or had to live five thousand miles apart-- he would always have the memories.

 Memories not only of Eddie, but of the rest of the Losers Club. Jumping off the Quarry’s Edge in the hot summer air, seeing the latest movies at the Aladdin, even hiding from the Bowers gang. It reminded him that no matter where he was, his friends would always be with him in his heart. It was that thought alone that caused him to carefully lift a sleeping Eddie from his bed and carry him out to the van, laying him down just gently enough that he wouldn’t awaken.

 The brunette boy stirred a bit, head lolling against Richie’s chest as he sleepily wrapped his arms around his neck.

 “Going home?” He questioned softly, still in a half-asleep daze. Sleepy Eddie was also a very good Eddie.

 “Yeah Eds, going home,” Richie confirmed with a sharp breath and a soft smile.

 Quickly after he’d packed their stuff in the car, he began to drive back towards Derry, never happier. He had never been more grateful to Beverly-- if it wasn’t for her advice and encouragement, he never would have confessed anything to Eddie.

 And while it sucked that she lived in another city, Richie thought he wanted to see her more often and resolved to go on a road trip to Portland once a month. Only he would bring the other Losers along. He hoped nobody had noticed they were missing in the first place.

 They drove for a few hours, Eddie still miraculously sleeping, Richie with his eyes focused on the road. As they crossed the line back into Derry, the sign glaring eerily back at them, there was only happiness in his heart.

 What had been done out of pain had been transformed into love and warmth. It was a great feeling, filling his heart like a glass with water. He felt nothing like the thirteen-year-old he used to be, afraid to even hold a boy’s hand in public. Even if that boy was a friend.

 Because last night he had kissed Eddie Kaspbrak. And from there, there was no going back.

 When they attended school the next day, Stanley promptly slapped him across the face.

 “You had us all worried, you dipshit! They were gonna print ‘missing person’ posters for you! I thought you’d been kidnapped! Or killed, shit Richie you could have at least called!” He shouted, ignoring the strange stares from the students crowding the hallway.

 “Sorry bird-boy, Eds and I were off making sweet, sweet lo-”

 “He dragged me along on a road trip to Portland. We met up with Bev and then went home. Sorry to scare you, Stan.” Eddie slapped his hand over Richie’s mouth, knocking him back a bit. He shot Stan an apologetic look and turned to Bill. Bill, their de-facto leader, always seemed to know what to say.

 “Wuh- we’re just glad you’re okay.” Bill gave a crooked yet understanding smile. It was then Richie slung his arm over Eddie’s shoulders and leaned down to kiss his head.

 But Eddie turned at the last moment, standing on his tip-toes to bring Richie down into a quick kiss on the lips. He heard their friends mutual noises of shock and approval.

 “So how long’s that been going on?”

 “Bout a day and a half, Haystack,” Richie answered proudly, his lips curling into a smile. Eddie wore a blush and a similar smile, albeit a bit more bashful.

 And later that week Richie did get an acceptance letter. And everything he’d feared began to dissipate. He and Eddie bought an apartment together on campus, making time to see each other and call their other friends every once in a while.

  
 For the first time in a long while, Richie Tozier was not nervous or afraid. Living with his boyfriend gave him the one thing he hadn’t realized he’d been lacking.  _ Love. _


End file.
